The Whipping Boy
by Masih
Summary: He bit back every yelp and cry that threatened to spill out of him... Rated for slight language in later chapters
1. Chapter 1

The young prince was known here and there and anywhere else as Prince Brat. No talking cat's of Narnia or dumb cat's of his own land crossed his path.

One night the Tisroc (May He Live Forever) was hosting a dinner party. Sneaking around in the background, Prince Brat tied the ends of the guest's turbans to the backs of their oak chairs.

Then he hid behind a footman to wait.

When the guests stood up to toast the Tisroc (May He Live Forever), their turbans came flying off.

The noblemen cried out thinking that they had been scalped and the Ladies shrieked.

Prince Brat (He was never called that to his face of course) tried to keep his laughter in with putting both of his hands over his mouth but it still came ripping out of him.

The Tisroc (May He Live Forever) saw him and looked mad enough to spit ink! He gave an angry shout, "Fetch the whipping boy!"

Prince Brat was not afraid. He had never been spanked in his life, for it was illegal to spank, thrash, cuff, smack or whip a prince. In acted by his grandfather of course.

Because of this, a common boy was kept in the palace to take the whippings meant for the prince's punishment.

The Tisroc's (May He Live Forever) command traveled throughout the palace, from guard to guard it traveled.

An orphan named Nassof was woken from a deep slumber. He was dreaming of his ragged carefree life before he was plucked out of a sewer to be the royal whipping boy.

Nassof's eye's popped open, "Haven't I been whipped twice today? Gaw! What has Prince Brat done now?"

Once in the great hall, the Tisroc (May He Live Forever) bellowed, "Twenty whacks!"

Nassof reseved twenty whacks like the Tisroc (May He Live Forever)(Or _May He Not Live Forever _as Nassof often thought to himself) had commanded. He bit back ever yelp and whimper that threatened to spill out of him.

The Tisroc (May He Live Forever) turned to his son, "Now let that be a lesson to you!" he said.

The prince hung his head to appear shameful and said, "Yes, papa." But inside he had an ever growing feeling of exasperation for his whipping boy.

Once in Prince Brat's room, the prince turned to his whipping boy and said, "You are the wort whipping boy I have ever had! How come you never bawl?"

Nassof just shrugged. "Dunno," was his reply.

"A whipping boy is supposed to yawl like a stuck pig! We dress you up in fancy cloths and feed you good food, don't we? It's no fun if you don't yelp and bawl!" Prince Brat said.

Nassof shrugged again. He was determined to never spring a tear for him to gloat over.

"Yell and bawl next time, hear? Or I'll tell Papa to give you back your rags and kick you back in to the streets."

Nassof's spirit's soared. _Much obliged, Your Royal Awfulness!_ He thought,_ I'll take me rags and be gone in a half a blink of an eye!_

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><p><strong>Does anyone else feel sorry for Nassof? Because twenty whipping really hurt.<strong>

**Your guys let me know what you guys think, okay.**

**Love you all!**

**~Massy~**


	2. Chapter 2

_I'll probably have a spanking first thing today! Sure and certain!_ Nassof thought as he put on his fine cloaths that he hated so much. _The prince won't know his lesson and I'll be in the streets catching rats! Take a last look at me, Pa, rest your bones. Did you ever think I'd be holed up in the king's own castle and all rigged up in duds would shame a peacock? Reckon I'll fetch a pair of sharp-toothed ferrets and go to rat-catching', same as you. Same as you, Pa._

The tutor, Master Brikbiter, was a round-faced man with a thin face. He pointed his switch at the prince. "You fiddle-faddle scholar!" be bellowed. "One day, you'll take your fathers place as Tisroc (May He Live Forever)! And you still don't know the alphabet from pig tracks!"

The prince stood up leaning over the desk with his hands pressed to the top steadying him, "I can always get someone to read for me."

"You can't so much as write your name!"

"Pish-posh. I can always get someone to write my name for me."

The tutor's cheeks, swelling with anger, almost unhorsed the small spectacles saddling his nose. "It would be easier to educate a boiled cabbage! Prepare to be punished, Your Lordship!"

"Ten whacks at least," said the prince indifferently. "And make them good and hard, if you please."

Nassof, who was obliged to be close at hand for the daily lessons, reckoned that freedom was now close at hand. The prince threw him a smirking glance as Master Brikbiter raised the switch and beat the whipping boy like a carpet.

Nassof didn't bawl. He didn't yelp or bellow. Ten whacks, and not a sound escaped his lips.

"You contrary rascal!" Prince Brat exploded. "I'm on to you, ass-from-the-streets. It's pure spite that you won't howl! Think you can cross me and get away with it? Ha! Never and no how!"

_Gaw! _thought Nassof. _He's going back on his word!_

"And don't try to run away. I'll have you tracked down till your tong hangs out like a red flag!"

And so it went for more than a year. The prince learned nothing. The whipping boy learned to read, write and do sums.

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><p><strong>Wanna know how I came up with 'Nassof'? I was trying to think of a good name when I looked at a line on a coke zero bottle I was drinking out of and saw that the line said, "Not a significant sorce of fat". So I took the first letters of each word and came up with Nassof! Cool, huh. I thought so too.<strong>

**Please review!**

**Love you all!**

**~Massy~**


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